Aftermath
by Pir8grl
Summary: Clara and the Doctor share a quiet moment in the TARDIS library following the events of The Day of the Doctor.


A warm fire crackled merrily in the massive fireplace of the TARDIS's library. Two empty teacups were set neatly on a side table, and two pairs of boots were discarded under it. Two time travelers lay entwined in a comfortable and comforting tangle of limbs on an overstuffed couch. One of the aforementioned time travelers was snoring.

Clara was quite warm and cozy. Her cheek was pressed to the Doctor's waistcoat and his arms were wrapped snuggly around her. And she was awake, now, because he was snoring. She shoved him lightly.

"Doctor."

"Huh? Wha?" he spluttered, still mostly asleep.

"Shut it."

"Pardon?"

"Your mouth. Shut it. You're snoring."

"Sweet talker."

"Mmm…" Clara replied, already drifting back to sleep. Or trying to.

"You could go back to your own room, you know," the Doctor murmured with a fond smile, not loosening his hold on her in the slightest.

"That would involve moving." A thing Clara had no intention of doing any time soon. She knew her dress was wrinkling horribly, and she's likely have a crick in her neck, come morning (or what passed for morning aboard the TARDIS), but she didn't want to relinquish this interlude of closeness. She knew it wouldn't be long before he was off and running again.

"Clara?" he asked after a moment. "Was I dreaming?"

"Dunno. I only noticed the snoring."

"You're not going to let that pass anytime soon, are you?"

"Nope. _**Were**_ you dreaming?" she asked curiously, and a bit more consciously.

"Might have been, but it felt different. For the first time in a very long time, it felt…peaceful."

Clara smiled up at him. "I'm glad," she said softly.

He kissed the top of her head lightly. "Do you think we were successful?" he asked, his voice shaking ever so slightly.

Clara cuddled a little closer into his side. "I hope so," she replied fervently, "more than anything." Anything to keep that horrible, ever-present shadow of pain from his eyes.

"Hope is a good thing."

"Yes, it is. Where will you look? For the picture, I mean?"

"It's not exactly a picture," he reminded her. "More of a moment, frozen in time. And I'm not sure yet. That's why I came in here. Seemed like a good place to start searching for clues. Unfortunately, _**someone**_ decided to use me for a pillow. I'm afraid it proved to be, er…contagious."

That remark earned him an affectionate swat. Then Clara bit her lip uncertainly.

"What is it?" he asked gently.

"Can I help? Can I help you find your way home again?"

"Clara Oswald. As if I could even think of attempting this without you. You started it, after all." He chuckled ruefully. "You stopped me from pushing that big, red button, all because I couldn't bear to see you cry. You are my conscience and my salvation, Clara."

"Just so you don't start calling me Jiminy Cricket," she teased.

"You're prettier than he is," the Doctor informed her.

"I just…I don't want you to be alone anymore."

"I'm not alone. I've got you."

"It's not the same, though."

"No…I'm so sorry, but…no, it isn't. It should be but…"

"It's all right," Clara soothed. "It's…well…it's sort of like losing my mum. No matter how many other people there are in my life, or how much they love me, it's just not the same."

His arms tightened around her, and he settled his cheek against her hair. "Thank you," he breathed. "Thank you for always being there for me."

"But I'm not the only one, am I? The other Doctor, he said Bad Wolf Girl, like she was right there, and a couple of times, I caught him looking off to the side, as if he could see someone that none of the rest of us could. But how could that be? I thought Bad Wolf meant Rose Tyler, and you hadn't met her yet."

The Doctor stilled then, an old pain flashing through his eyes. "Bad Wolf is Rose, plus the TARDIS, plus the Time Vortex. There is very little that she couldn't accomplish. Reaching back through time would be child's play."

"So…Rose was there, too. Why couldn't we see her?"

"Well, for one thing, it wasn't Rose, precisely. Those memories are rather a tangle, I'm afraid. I recall that there was a legend or myth, that The Moment was sentient, that it possessed a conscience. A sentient machine could have picked an image out of my mind, the TARDIS can certainly do it, but this seems like something more. I don't suppose we'll ever really know."

"I think I'd rather believe that someone who loved you very, very much reached out to help you through the worst moment of your life."

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"

"Do you think, when we find Gallifrey, that you'll remember it all properly?"

"I don't know. It's not as if I have anything for comparison. Even for a professional rule breaker, this was pretty impressive."

She giggled then, that delicious little burble of laughter that he loved to hear.

"What's so funny?"

"You. Another Mrs. Doctor. That sure as hell isn't in the history books."

"Er…well…it was a bit of a shotgun wedding, if you recall."

"Just a bit," Clara agreed. "I'm glad I got to meet those other you's…I mean properly meet them, face to face."

"I'd say they were both rather taken with you, as well."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

The Doctor leaned down to breath a ghost of a kiss along Clara's cheek, then raised her hand to his lips gallantly.

Smiling, she reached up and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

The Doctor stared into the flames, not really needing any more sleep himself, but strangely content in that moment to feel Clara's sleepy weight draped around him.

"Doctor?" she murmured drowsily.

"Yes?"

"When we were trying to save Gallifrey, there were thirteen TARDISes on the scanner. Who was the other one?"

"That was me, as well."

"How?"

"Some events are so big that they can echo both backwards and forwards in time."

"So…that was you, from the future?"

"Apparently."

"How far in the future?" she asked worriedly.

"No way to tell."

"Do you think I'll meet him?"

"I don't know, but Clara, I do know this: whenever the next me comes around, he'll still be _**me**_, on the inside. He'll need you, as much as I do, maybe even more. He'll still want to hear your laughter, and hold your hand. Even if it's hard, right at first, please just try to believe that, would you? For me?"

"I will, if you'll do something for me."

Startled, the Doctor glanced down and saw an impish gleam in Clara's eyes.

"What might that be?"

"Forget how to snore."


End file.
